Memories of Kol Nidre

Grandma Stella reflects on the quiet autumn day, missing her beloved husband during the Jewish High Holy Days, finding solace in the memories of his Kol Nidre record playing in the house, feeling his presence through the music.

It’s Sunday and all is quiet. I am sitting in my bedroom listening to the classical radio station. Outside the birds are cheerfully singing away. We are in the first few days of autumn yet summer is reluctant to say goodbye. It is warm for this time of year, but pleasantly so.

It is the month of the Jewish High Holy Days. It is a special time for me. When I hear them blow the shofar, I feel a deep yearning somewhere between love and pain each year. It cleanses my soul. This is the third time that the High Holy Days are here but my beloved husband is not. I remember how after we came back from synagogue, he would go look for his Kol Nidre record. He would play it. It would envelop the whole house with its soulful sound. Somehow it would wrap around our beings and bring us peace. Last year Kelly and I came home to a quiet house that somehow felt abandoned and forlorn. I went upstairs to change. The classical station was on. Kol Nidre was playing. To me, it was a sign from Peter. “I am still with you,” he seemed to say. “You are not alone.” I felt reassured.

I miss you, my Peter. Wherever you are, I hope you are in a happy, loving place. May God bless your loving, caring soul.

I love you so much.